


Blown Up

by Joycee



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Male Slash, Minor Character Death, Non-Canon Relationship, S5:1-4, Shock, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 03:57:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13825986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joycee/pseuds/Joycee
Summary: Neal falls in love with his new handler, only to be devastated by his loss.





	Blown Up

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Season 5, Episodes 1-4

As Neal Caffrey dressed for work, Peter Burke’s hurtful words echoed in his head. “I forget that you’re a criminal. I need perspective and I don’t have that anymore.”

Neal had blinked back tears and responded, “Just the other day, I could swear you were telling me how proud you were of me.”

He had tuned out as Peter protested, “I am, but....”

Now Neal pushed aside his hurt and angry feelings and mentally prepared himself to meet his new handler. He had charmed Peter and he would seduce this new guy, too. Maybe Peter was right. They had gotten too close. A new start with a little distance was what was needed.

Neal bounced into the FBI building 15 minutes late so he could make a dramatic entrance. When Peter complained that he was late, he insouciantly protested, “All we usually do is drink coffee anyway for the first 15 minutes.”

As Peter weakly protested, with his mug of coffee in hand, Neal peered around him into the conference room where the team was gathered. “Is my new handler in there?”

Peter nodded, but refused to point him out, saying, “You’re the expert on handlers. Let’s see if you can pick him out.”

Neal teased, “I bet he’s middle aged, curmudgeonly, prefers Sports Center to Masterpiece Theater?”

Peter smirked and led the way. As Jones presented their new case against Grey Trade, Neal interrupted enthusiastically several times until an exhausted Diana threatened to strangle him. The last time Neal started to comment, a good looking young newcomer spoke up to make Neal’s point.

Neal examined him curiously, muttering, “Guess I was wrong about curmudgeonly.”

Agent David Siegel stepped forward and asked, “What did you say?”

Neal shook his head and put on his dazzling smile. “Oh nothing. I’m Neal Caffrey. You must be my new handler.”

Siegel suppressed a smile and put out his hand to shake, commenting drily, “Must be.”

After the conference, Peter formally introduced them. Neal had to ask, “How old are you?”

When Siegel calmly admitted, “I’m 31,” Peter summarized Siegel’s stellar record with the FBI and Neal learned that Siegel had managed a CI in Chicago with a contract modeled after Peter’s and Neal’s.

Siegel flattered Neal shamelessly, “I can’t wait to work with you. Neal. You might be the FBI’s single most important asset.”

Neal grinned, “Might be” and shot a look at Peter. He thought he caught a twinge of regret and maybe jealousy in Peter’s expression. Neal’s spirits soared. This was going to be fun.

Peter steamed as Neal sauntered jauntily off to his desk. He told Siegel tersely, “I’m sorry, but you’re not the man for this job. Neal doesn’t need a lapdog:”

“I’m no lapdog, Sir,” protested Siegel hotly.

“You could have fooled me,” retorted Peter.

“Well, I hope I fooled him, too,” Siegel explained. “I was handling him.”

Peter smiled and acquiesced. He wondered how Neal was going to respond to this smart new young handler.

In a few days, at Elizabeth’s urging, Peter met Neal for coffee before work and inquired, “How’s it going with Siegel so far?”

When Neal replied enthusiastically, Peter grimaced and pointed out, “He loves you, huh?”

Neal sighed, “Peter I know when someone is flattering me, but I like him.”

When Siegel met Neal before work and asked him to recommend a place to live, Neal noted, “It depends on what you can afford.”

David replied offhandedly. “Oh, money’s not important.”

Neal did a double take. “It is in New York, unless you’re secretly rich.”

When David just looked at him, Neal realized, “You’re secretly rich!”

As they entered the White Collar offices, Neal questioned excitedly, “How rich are we talking about?”

“Sshhh,” Siegel cautioned, “I don’t want everyone to know.”

Neal teased, “Trusting a conman with a secret. You live a dangerous life, Agent Seigel!”

As the Grey Trade investigation progressed to involve Mozzie’s Little Star business, Neal had to use his wits to steer David away. At the same time, Curtis Hagen was demanding that Neal steal the Mosconi Codex from the Gershon Museum and destroy the forged bonds that the FBI was holding as evidence against him.

Neal was grateful that it was David he had to fool instead of Peter as he convinced them that they should stakeout the Gershon Museum. While they waited in the car, Neal and David got to know each other. Neal was fascinated with the rich young playboy who had given up an easy life to become an FBI agent.

David pointed out, “You and I are a lot alike, Neal.”

When Neal protested, David scoffed, “We both know you could cut that anklet and be gone anytime you wanted to.”

Neal listened to David talk about his family and his divorce as they munched on the pizza that David had brought him and he liked the young agent more and more. When David noted ruefully, “Neal, you’re either going to make my career or break it,” Neal felt a twinge of regret at deceiving him.

David stepped out of the car to pursue Mozzie, who was serving as a decoy so Neal could steal the Codex. To Neal’s utter chagrin, Peter suddenly slid into the driver’s seat. Neal grew panicky as the minutes ticked down.

He turned to Peter abruptly and told him, “You shouldn’t be here. You and I are not partners anymore. You wanted to go, so just go.”

He cringed at Peter’s stricken look, but Peter hastily got out of the car while agreeing, “You’re right. Time to rip off the bandaid.”

Despite his late start, Neal managed to complete his piggyback robbery and escape just as the museum’s alarm went off. He breathlessly met up with David, who had no suspicion that Neal was involved.

Afterward, Peter angrily confronted them in his office, “The two of you sat right there while the museum was being robbed!”

David complained to Neal, “My first Peter Burke lecture. I feel 2 inches shorter!”

Neal joked sympathetically, “I used to be 7 feet tall when I started here.”

David proposed, “Come on, let’s go get a drink. I think we need one.”

Neal hesitated and then agreed to meet him at a Greenwich Village bar in an hour. First he had to slip into the evidence room and destroy Hagen’s bonds. He called Mozzie along the way to be sure he had secured the Codex.

Neal found David waiting for him in the expensive bar. David greeted him warmly and suggested, “How about tequila? Are you up for a couple of shots?”

Neal grinned, “Sure, why not? As long as you’re paying the bill.”

David agreed, “Of course.” 

A couple of shots turned into a couple more as Neal entertained David with stories of his and Peter’s exploits. Finally, they got up to leave and David threw an arm around Neal’s shoulders. He suggested, “I’m too drunk to drive you home, Neal. Why don’t you come see my new apartment? It’s right around the corner.”

Neal was high on tequila and relief that his cons had succeeded and he was curious to see where David had chosen to live, so he easily agreed. They passed through a tasteful lobby into a gilded elevator which opened directly into David’s top floor apartment. Neal admired the stylish furnishings and observed, “What a great place to impress the ladies.”

David looked at him lustfully and said, “Neal, I’m not interested in ladies.”

Neal was taken aback that he had not picked up on David’s sexuality until then. He gave him a slow sexy smile and asked, “What are you interested in, David?”

David closed the distance between them and took Neal into his arms. He murmured into his hair, “Anything you are.”

It had been awhile since anyone had held Neal and he craved the intimacy. He closed his eyes and relaxed against David as they kissed. His cock rose in excited anticipation as he felt David’s erection pressing against him.

Neal smirked, “Guess that explains the divorce.”

David said amiably, “Shut up Neal” and kissed him into silence.

They stumbled into the bedroom, shedding their jackets and ties on the way. When they were both undressed, Neal gaped at David’s large cock apprehensively and hesitated, “Um....”

David smiled, “That’s okay. You can fuck me first.”

Neal groaned and fell onto the bed. David joined him and kissed and caressed him, until he finally took Neal’s throbbing cock into his mouth. Neal lay back reveling in the sensations and running his fingers through David’s hair. When he couldn’t wait any longer, he allowed David to roll a condom onto him and began to tease David’s entrance.

David cried out with pleasure as Neal pushed into him. Their well toned muscular bodies fit perfectly together and they fucked with abandon. Neal could hear Mozart’s Don Giovanni aria thundering in his head. He came explosively and then passed out. 

He awoke some hours later with David nibbling his ear and David’s massive erection poking against his ass. Neal started to turn toward him, but David guided him onto his stomach, whispering, “Sshh, just relax.”

David massaged his shoulders and back and buttocks and planted little kisses until Neal felt like jelly. He purred with contentment as he felt David don a condom and nudge the head of his penis gently against Neal’s tight hole. David’s generously lubed fingers gradually worked Neal open and then he was slowly pressing his enormous cock into him.

Neal gasped sharply, but he allowed himself to relax through the burning stretch. He was amazed at how wonderful it felt to be so completely filled once David was inside him. He moaned happily and David slowly began to rock back and forth. Neal pushed back and met him until they came for the second time that night.

When David withdrew, Neal protested his loss, but David turned Neal over to face him and Neal nestled against him. David enclosed him snugly in his arms and Neal felt safe and warm and content as he drifted back to sleep.

The next time Neal awoke, David was standing over him, gripping his shoulder and shaking him. “Wake up, Neal. We don’t want to be late for work.”

Neal peered up at him groggily and suggested, “Consultants make their own hours?”

David laughed, “Oh, no they don’t. You’re not pulling that on me. Come on. Up.”

Neal reluctantly climbed out of bed and asked, “Don’t you even have a headache?”

David handed him a couple of pills and a glass of juice, saying, “I’m a couple of Tylenols ahead of you.”

Neal showered and asked if he could borrow a fresh shirt and tie from David. David chuckled fondly, “Oh boy, I can see I’m in trouble now if you’re already wearing my clothes after one date.”

The two of them strolled into the White Collar office right on time and exchanged a secret smile. Peter frowned, looking down from his office, and wondered what was going on.

As Neal and David worked their cases over the next few days, it became obvious to everyone exactly what was going on. They were in sync even more than Peter and Neal had ever been and they were solving cases at an astonishing rate. They would read each other’s thoughts and finish each other’s sentences.

Neal would smile and say, “Remember when....” and David would chuckle and finish, “Oh yeah, when that guy....” and they would both laugh. When others looked at them, Neal would shrug, “I guess you just had to be there.”

They were discreet most of the time, but they occasionally exchanged subtle affectionate touches. Most days they disappeared at lunch time for a good long while and they usually left together at the end of the day. Neal had never seemed happier.

Clinton Jones went into Peter’s office and asked, “Are you going to do anything about this?”

Peter tried to sound oblivious. “Do anything about what, Jones?”

Jones nodded significantly toward Neal and David who were leaning intently over a file, their heads nearly touching. He clarified, “About that. Sort of gives new meaning to the words ‘new handler’.”

Peter sighed and asked, “What do you want me to do? They are solving cases at an amazing rate. How can I complain?”

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Jones asked curiously.

Peter hesitated, then admitted, “Of course, it does. I’m hoping it’s just a crush that won’t last too long.”

That afternoon when the Gershon Museum employee Rebecca Lowe was brought in, Peter pulled Neal out of the interview room. He announced, “I’m taking over this case. It’s my fault the thief got away. I distracted you.”

Neal protested, “Peter, no. That wasn’t it. I promise it wasn’t your fault.”

Peter was adamant, however. He said abruptly, “Come on, we’re going to the museum.”

When they discovered the thief’s fingerprints on the security gate, Neal was shaken. He knew his fingerprints were on the gate at a different entrance. Peter took the opportunity to suggest, “Neal, you seem to have gotten awfully close to Agent Seigel. That’s not what I had in mind when I said a new handler would have a better perspective.”

Neal bristled, “Why? Because he likes me, Peter? Haven’t we been behaving professionally at the office? We’re solving cases. Can’t we enjoy that?”

Peter mused, “Hmm, I guess so, but what about out of the office?”

Neal retorted, “Maybe you should ask David about that.”

Peter responded, “Yes, maybe I should do that.”

Neal hated that idea. He winced, “Please don’t, Peter.”

After the thief had been arrested, Neal found David waiting for him in the office. He smiled, “You got me a bad guy, Caffrey, just like you promised. Come on, let’s go celebrate.”

Neal hesitated and then turned him down. Besides Peter’s concerns, he had neglected Mozzie and ignored Hagen far too much lately. He demurred, “Next time. I can’t today, but you owe me a dinner at Mata restaurant, okay?”

David wondered what was going on. He sighed uncomfortably, “Next time.”

Mozzie berated Neal, “What are you doing? Are you substituting Suit 2.0 for the original Suit in your affections? You know love always ends in trouble for you.” 

“Come on, Moz,” Neal protested. “Don’t I deserve a little happiness? Can’t you just be glad for me?”

Mozzie sighed miserably, “Okay, I’m happy for you. Just please be careful, Neal. Now are you going to help me decipher the Codex so we can get Hagen off your back?”

They spent a companionable evening together, but after Mozzie was gone, Neal lay awake in bed. He couldn’t get Mozzie’s warnings out of his head. He flashed back to thoughts of Kate. Then he worried about Hagen. Finally he got out of bed and got dressed.

Neal made his way to Greenwich Village and stood outside David’s apartment staring up at his dark window. He impulsively pulled out his phone and called. David answered sleepily, “Neal? Are you okay?”

Neal replied, “Not really. I’m lonely. I miss you.”

David wondered, “Where are you?”

Neal told him sheepishly, “Look out your window.”

David exclaimed, “Neal, what are you doing out there? Get in here!”

Neal happily crossed over into the lobby and up to David's apartment where David grabbed him and kissed him and led him to bed. They nuzzled and cuddled and frotted until they both fell sound asleep.

Although he still spent some evenings with Mozzie. after that Neal usually slept with David. When they weren't working, Neal delighted in showing David the best restaurants and nightclubs in New York. On weekends, they enjoyed concerts and plays and visited galleries and museums.

David liked to surprise Neal with gifts, such as a new Italian silk tie or a pair of gold cufflinks or a diamond tie pin. No matter how much Neal protested, David loved watching his obvious pleasure. Neal gave him a rare original Caffrey painting.

David confessed, “I’ve never known anyone like you, Neal.”

Neal reminded him, “You were right. We are a lot alike.”

In bed, they found their perfect match, sometimes fucking violently like a pair of wildcats in heat and other times coming together gently and lovingly. Some mornings, after a rough night, Neal could barely walk. He had never been happier. 

Peter invited the two men to his home for dinner and Elizabeth agreed that they seemed to be made for each other. Peter complained, “Yeah, but I’m worried about that. I’m afraid Neal is going to take advantage of David. No telling what he’s getting away with.”

El protested, “That’s not fair, Peter. You’re being too suspicious. Why don’t you give Neal a chance? This might actually be good for him. You’re not jealous, are you?

Peter huffed, “Of course not! How can you ask me that?” He paused; then kissed her and agreed, “Okay, Hon, I’ll give them a chance. Maybe you’re right.”

Everything continued to go smoothly at the office and everyone seemed to accept David’s and Neal’s relationship. At least it seemed to be keeping Neal out of trouble so Peter decided to leave things alone.

One morning after spending a rare night home alone, Neal bounded into the office and looked around for David. When he didn't see him or Peter, he asked Clinton Jones where they were. Jones explained that they had gotten a call about a possible terrorist threat a few blocks away and had gone down to check it out. Neal hurried to find them.

He found them standing on the sidewalk a short distance from an agitated man who was holding an incendiary device in his hand while he read from a manifesto. SWAT agents were slowly surrounding him. Suddenly the man noticed them closing in. He armed the device and laid it on the ground and tried to run away.

At that moment, a small child wandered curiously toward the device. Without hesitation, David ran out and grabbed it and tried to distance himself from the crowd. David held the device against his abdomen and doubled over it as it exploded, spewing blood and body parts and shrapnel everywhere.

Neal had already screamed, "Noooo!" and started running toward David. He ignored the shrapnel that hit him and knelt by David’s bloody remains, oblivious to the gory mess. He cried hysterically as he frantically tried to scrape pieces of his lover back together.

Peter grabbed Neal firmly by his shoulders and pulled him back. He swiped at Neal's bloody hands with his handkerchief and turned Neal around to face him. Neal buried his face in Peter's chest and sobbed inconsolably. Peter held him tightly and slowly moved him back from the scene. As soon as a medical team arrived, Peter called them over to examine Neal. They carefully bandaged his wounds and loaded him into the ambulance.

After Peter had given his witness statement, he hurried to the hospital. Elizabeth met him there and they waited in horrified silence for the emergency doc to come out and give them a report on Neal's condition. El wondered, "After seeing Kate die in an explosion, how could this possibly happen to Neal again?"

Peter shook his head and worried, "I don't know how he'll get over this, Hon. After everything that happened with James, he was finally finding happiness."

El grasped his hand and vowed, "Well, he still has us and we will do everything we possibly can to help him."

When the doctor finally spoke to them, he didn't have good news. He rubbed his face uncomfortably and recounted, "Neal’s physical wounds are not serious, but we have had to restrain him and keep him sedated. Every time we allow him to wake up, he screams and struggles to get up. He is not in touch with reality. I can't rule out a head injury, but I am afraid he is in traumatic shock and I am going to have to admit him, at least over night. If possible, someone should stay with him at all times until he can be safely left alone."

Peter and Elizabeth exchanged worried looks and asked to be taken to him. Despite the doctor's description, they were unprepared to find a deathly pale, clearly distraught Neal with a tear streaked face and multiple white dressings taped on his arms and legs. Peter tentatively laid a hand on Neal's chest and softly called his name. Neal suddenly strained against the restraints and tried to sit up, mumbling, "No, please, let me go! I have to get to him! Let me go!"

Peter tried to hold him and reassure him, but a nurse had to sedate him again before he relaxed. Peter pet his hair and soothed, "I'm here, Neal. I'm right here."

They were asked to wait outside again while Neal was admitted. Peter called the office and let Jones know what was going on. When they were ushered into his room, Neal was asleep, but his expression was pained and far from restful. Elizabeth began to cry. Peter suggested, "Hon, why don't you go home and see about Satchmo. I'll stay here with Neal tonight. Maybe he'll recognize me the next time he wakes up.

The next time Neal woke up, though, he screamed and thrashed until Peter summoned a nurse to sedate him again. Later the doctor stopped in and said, "Agent Burke, I'm sorry. I just can't keep sedating him. If Neal is not better by morning, I'll have to transfer him to the Psych ward.

Peter perched on the side of Neal's bed and began to talk him. He quietly recalled the years when he chased the young thief and forger and the first time he caught him and the second time he caught him and when he accepted Neal's deal. Then he began to recollect their most interesting cases, starting with the Dutchman. At some point, Neal quietly opened his eyes and stared at Peter.

Peter called his name gently and Neal responded tentatively, "Peter? Am I in the hospital?"

When Peter nodded, Neal asked, "Where’s David? Is he okay?"

Peter swallowed hard and looked down. Neal concluded, "Oh, I get it. He's hurt too, isn't he? Well, don't worry, he'll be okay. David's strong. Tell him I can't wait to see him."

Peter nodded and stroked Neal as he drifted back to sleep. Tears filled his eyes as he wondered how he was going to break the news to Neal. Wearily, he sank into the chair beside the bed.

The next time Neal opened his eyes and called out to him, Peter hurried over to him. Neal studied his face silently and then said sadly, "David is dead, isn't he?"

Peter nodded slowly and gripped Neal's arms, but Neal just closed his eyes and went back to sleep. When he woke up a couple of hours later, Neal asked, "Could you untie my hands? I promise I won't try to run."

Peter released him from the restraints, staying on guard in case Neal panicked again. When the doctor came in, Neal was calmly sitting up in bed rubbing his arms.

The doctor perused the notes in Neal’s medical record and said, “I’m glad you’re feeling better this morning, Neal. You’ve been through quite a shock and it’s going to take some time to recover. I have asked a psychiatrist to stop by and see you this morning, but if it’s okay with her, there is no reason you can’t be discharged from the hospital. Do you have someone who can stay with you?”

Neal just looked at him without responding, so Peter offered, “My wife and I will take care of him, Doctor.”

The doctor nodded and said, “Okay then, Neal. My office will call you with an appointment in a few days to check those cuts on your arms and legs. In the meantime, keep them clean and dry and covered with the bandages. Take care now.”

Peter checked with Neal, “Would you like to come and stay with El and me for a little while?”

Neal nodded without expression and agreed, “Sure.”

“How are you feeling this morning?” Peter asked awkwardly. “Are you in any pain?”

Neal shook his head no and mumbled, “I’m fine.”

When the psychiatrist came, she asked Neal if he remembered what happened. He shrugged and responded calmly, “Sort of. There was an explosion.”

The psychiatrist had a few more questions for him and then offered to prescribe some medication for anxiety that he could also take if he needed it for sleep.

Neal nodded and accepted the prescription. He asked, “So I can go now?”

The doctor agreed and made an appointment for Neal to see her in a week. Out in the hall, she went over her instructions with Peter.

They had to wait for Elizabeth to bring some clothes for Neal to wear home from the hospital. They stopped on the way for Peter to get Neal’s prescription filled. When they got to the Burke’s, Neal sagged wearily onto the couch and ran his fingers through his hair.

Elizabeth told him, “I’ve made up the guest room upstairs for you whenever you feel like lying down.

Neal admitted, “Yeah, I’m pretty tired. Maybe I will rest for awhile.”

The next few days were like living with a ghost. Neal barely talked or ate or even seemed to be there. He answered direct questions noncommittally, but otherwise avoided conversation. One thing they noticed was that he washed his hands repeatedly and took several long showers a day, scrubbing hard enough to open the scabs on his cuts.

When Peter confronted him, Neal confessed pitifully, “I can’t get clean, Peter.”

Peter nodded his understanding but cautioned him to be more careful about the open wounds.

After another week, Peter decided it was time to take Neal back to work. He thought maybe it would help to bring him out of his depression. Neal complied but contributed minimally to team conferences and spent most of his time just sitting at his desk and staring at files. Everyone noticed how quiet and shaky he was and everyone felt sorry for him.

Neal numbly sleepwalked through his days. When Peter took him to June’s house to pick up some clothing, Neal grabbed the silk tie that David had given him. When Peter looked in on him that night, Neal had the tie clutched against his cheek.

Not long after that, Peter allowed Neal to return to June’s to stay, though El still cooked for him several nights a week. They prayed that the doctors were right and it would just take time for Neal to heal.

One day Neal walked into Peter’s office and flopped into a chair. He anguished, “Why, Peter? Why did he do it?”

Peter pointed out, “What David did was very brave. He saved a lot of people, probably including you and me.”

Neal said bitterly, “By sacrificing himself.”

Peter replied solemnly, “It was a terrible loss. He was an excellent agent. I know you and David were very close.”

Neal blinked back tears and confirmed emotionally, “We were.”

There was a memorial ceremony at the FBI when they hung Agent David Siegel’s picture on the Wall of Honor. Neal stoically attended and then returned to his desk. Late that night, Neal called Peter and told him sadly, “I’m sorry, Peter. I appreciate everything you have done for me, but I just can’t take it anymore. I wanted to tell you goodbye.”

Peter panicked as Neal hung up on him. He immediately tried to call June but there was no answer. He used El’s special phone to try to call Mozzie, but again got no answer. He hastily dressed and frantically drove to June’s in record breaking time. He raced up the stairs and pushed through the door, calling, “Neal!”

The apartment was dark, but when Peter flipped on the light, Neal was nowhere to be seen. Peter noticed there was a drawing of David Siegel on the easel. He checked Neal’s bed and then headed fearfully for the bathroom. When he opened the door, he found Neal standing naked in the shower leaning against the wall and holding a gun against his temple. The water wasn’t turned on, but silent tears streamed down Neal’s face.

Peter yanked open the shower door and stepped in front of Neal. He said quietly, “That’s not the answer, Neal.” 

Peter reached out and removed the gun from Neal’s trembling hand. He stepped back out of the shower and quickly unloaded the gun. He realized it was David Seigel’s service weapon and he wondered how Neal had gotten it. He pocketed the bullets and slid the unloaded gun out of the bathroom. 

Then Peter stripped off his clothing and stepped back into the shower with Neal. He turned on the warm water, grabbed some soap, and lovingly thoroughly washed Neal from head to toe. When he finished he rinsed him off and wrapped a large fluffy towel around him. He picked up another towel and gently dried Neal’s hair and legs and then dried himself off.

For the first time since the day of the explosion, Neal began to sob. He cried out in anguish and beat his fists against Peter’s chest. Peter held Neal and soothed him through it until the tears finally subsided. Peter carefully wiped Neal's eyes and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

Peter led Neal to the bed and climbed onto it, leaning back against the headboard. He opened his arms to Neal and Neal gratefully slipped into them. He gazed at Peter and said mournfully, “I loved David so much.”

Peter responded seriously, “I know you did. He loved you, too.”

Neal asked, “Am I going to get another new handler?”

Peter assured, “No, I’m going to be your handler again.”

Neal lay his face against Peter’s broad chest and breathed, “Thank you, Peter. I love you.”

Peter cradled and comforted him and pledged, “I love you, too, Neal. I always will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, I suppose this story could merge back into canon with Peter resuming as Neal’s handler and Neal falling for Rebecca.
> 
>  
> 
> The White Collar characters were created by Jeff Eastin for the USA TV series. Some of the dialog was taken directly from the show.


End file.
